Disclaimer:Yoshihiro Togashi owns these characters. No copyright infringement intended, just exercising the brain cells.
Summary: Kurama once wondered what it would be like to be blind; he gets a chance to have that question answered.
Psychosomatic
(The problem with humanity is that you were prone to random bouts of regret.)
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Kurama once went to bed wondering what it would be like to be blind. He wakes up feeling the prickling heat of the sun on his face, the weight of a book on his stomach, and he figures that he has fallen asleep while doing his homework. He opens his eyes, blinks once, twice, then lifts a hand to his face.
He can't see anything - not a sliver of sunshine, not a burst of color, just white.
He is both thankful and apprehensive that his parents were out of town, and that his brother was off sleeping over somewhere (a rare chance when good timing was on his side). He extends his ki, eventually finds what he is looking for: he reaches into a hidden drawer full of seeds and begins concocting a remedy.
.
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This is how Hiei finds him: baby sprouts half-crushed or dried or all pulpy and mush. Kurama smells of herbs, his eyes currently covered by a strip of cloth, leaves sandwiched in between the fabric and his eyelids. The fire demon doesn't say anything, although his stillness speaks volumes.
"Eyes hurt?"
Kurama jumps slightly, surprised at how Hiei's voice actually feels, with the deep tones caressing the atmosphere, "I can't see. Well, I can sort of picture the surroundings with my ki spread out like this -"
"You'll use up too much energy."
'You might die' hangs in the air in between them.
The half-demon pulls back his ki, smiles, "Help me to the bathroom? I need to cleanse all the oils out."
Without the help of his sight or his energy, his sense of smell opens up: Hiei's scent is that of sunlight after a light drizzle; of damp earth and some sort of stew. It makes Kurama's stomach growl slightly, but the fire demon also smells like someone's blood, and that keeps the gurgling in line.
Hiei doesn't give him a hand, but Kurama feels his heat nearby. He lifts an arm, fingers gliding through air - (hears a rustle), and comes in contact with a sleeve. He gingerly sets his feet to work, the task that he formerly performed with unconscious ease now somehow very difficult, as if the ground was moving. Hiei waits like a lamp post.
They shuffle to the bathroom, Kurama led by the tug of the sleeve between his fingers. He knows they have reached their intended destination by the change in temperature – the tiles in the bathroom somehow made the room cooler. Just as the tub fills, Kurama is positive that he hears Hiei's departure through the window.
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When he finishes cleansing his body of soap (and oil and whatever else his plants left behind on his skin), he unthinkingly reaches - and is surprised to find his towel where he usually puts it when taking a bath, the belt of his bathrobe tangling with it somewhat. He dries himself, wraps the robe around him, and then the towel around his hair. He considers cascading his ki again, decides against it, and gropes along the walls instead, to find the exit. He briefly wonders how he was going to mix and match his outfit without seeing the colors as his hand alights on the doorknob. He turns it, walks through the door and right into a wall.
"Oh", he lets out, surprised, taking a step back.
The wall speaks, "What did you do to yourself this time?"
His hands are suddenly full of cloth - shirt, pants, underwear (the kinds that were easy to put on). He dresses, turns around to where he thinks the other boy is. Yusuke catches his hand, tugs him down gently onto the bed. His butt thuds unceremoniously on the mattress. He feels Yusuke pull on the towel on his head, and then the gentle tugs and rubs on his scalp and hair to dry it.
"I brought onigiri", Yusuke says later on, and Kurama smiles gratefully when his hand is filled with a wrapped triangular shaped thing. He peels the wrap with little difficulty, demolishes the thing in seconds. The sourness of the filling bursts in his mouth and makes him alert for some reason. He hears Yusuke begin on his own rice ball then, and with his mouth full, the boy tells him that Hiei would be coming back with Yukina.
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The day blurs past for Kurama: he barely remembers the voices and flurry of activity of the others in his room - of Yukina telling him she couldn't find anything wrong, Genkai's quiet "Hm". There was Kuwabara's kitten playing by his feet (sometimes with his toes), and Shizuru's cigarette smoke that would occasionally be carried in by the wind. Keiko had brought everyone late lunch/early dinner, while Botan had delivered Koenma's regret at not being able to escape from work. There were endless cups of tea and hushed talk, Kurama, not exactly participating. He sat by the window, eavesdropping instead on the conversation between the leaves and wind. When provided with something, he would thank with a smile, eyes not quite on the other person.
What he does recall vividly was how the day got cooler, his nose detecting the icy chill of the moon. When the first cricket chirps, he stands, declares that he was going to rest already, and thank you for coming. He declines the boys' offers to stay, stating he was tired enough that he was sure he'd be knocked out the whole night.
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When he finally hears the hesitant closing of the front door, he heaves a sigh, takes a step backward and trips on the side of his bed. He ends up sliding down the edge of the mattress and onto the floor. He sighs again, lets go of the phone Yusuke had thrust into his hand and leans his head backwards, the base of his skull indenting the bed. He falls asleep that way.
He dreams. It starts with the feeling of Hiei's apprehension followed by footsteps. A warm hand drops gently by his temple, fingers interlaced with strands of his hair and brushing it out. He feels a blanket being pulled around him (how cliché can his dream get?). He gets the feeling that he has somehow been waiting for this person.
"It's alright, Kurama," the hands speak, and he feels warm lips on his cheek, and the whisper of long, silky hair by his neck.
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He wakes up and is greeted by glittering drops of dew on the leaves by his window.
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-end-
Another random story brought about by random words that just popped up in a conversation. Hope it wasn't too confusing. Constructive criticisms, suggestions and random messages are welcome :) -25c